


Communication Breakdown

by blackeyedqueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crying, Enochian, Gen, Helpful Castiel, Helpless Dean, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Post-Hell, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:26:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/blackeyedqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's fresh out of the cage. He's barely eating or sleeping, always crying, and potentially worst of all, speaking gibberish. Dean's just about reached his breaking point when Castiel shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> The insomia and starvation are really only briefly mentioned. This little diddy is more of an excuse to write post-hell!Sam babbling in Enochian than anything, because not enough of it exists.

None of it's exactly easy. It's caring for Sam, and that's nothing but instinct, but Dean has to admit (only in his head, never out loud) that it may be too intense at times. 

Dean's seen Sam cry more times than he can count on his hands. Everything from when he was in diapers to when he was feverish and weepy to when he was drunk and emotional to when he was just down right grieving. But Dean's never seen Sam hug his knees close to his chest and sit in a corner while he nearly wales, cheeks shiny with tears and upper lip coated with snot, and he won't even let Dean close.

He's seen Sam grumble about not being hungry, but he's never seen Sam refuse food for four days straight, shaking his head so hard Dean's worried that he might hurt himself.

Dean's handled Sam waking up yelling from a nightmare, but he's never handled Sam waking up yelling from a nightmare and just _not stopping_.

And the hardest thing is just communicating.

Dean knows why Sam cries, but at the same time he doesn't. He knows why Sam has a hard time eating, but at the same time he doesn't. 

When Sam let's him close enough to touch, Dean will slide close to him and wrap his little brother in his arms and say “What is it, Sammy? Huh? You gotta talk to me, kid, give me something... Anything.”

Sam presses himself into Dean's neck and stifles a sob and says something Dean doesn't fucking understand. It sounds like gibberish all the time. There are some words he says a lot and others Dean's never heard before. And Dean, in that moment, in every moment that this nonsense comes out of Sam's mouth, is so terrified that his little brother's brain is completely scrambled that it literally feels like his heart's stopped. Then he just breathes in the smell of Sam's shampoo in his hair, because at least that hasn't changed, squeezes him tighter, and twines his fingers through Sam's hair. He reminds himself that this is _Sam_ , it will always be _Sam_ , and they're going to get through this together.

 

It isn't until Sam's on day 6 of not eating, nearing hour 48 of not sleeping, and he's laying in his bed wailing and not letting Dean close, that Dean decides maybe, just maybe, he can't fucking do this. Dean thinks he's about to pace a hole into the floor under his feet, repeating the mantra _I can't do this, I can't do this,_ over and over in his head before he hears the flutter of angel wings and that fucking stops him in his tracks right there.

He wants to be really relieved that Castiel's come to them, he wants to ask Cas for help and accept whatever he has to offer because Sam's crying his voice raw in his bedroom in the pitch black, but all Dean feels is fucking mad. Because why the fuck would Castiel pull Sam out of the cage, show up with him at Dean's motel, and then just leave them for two months? (Yes, it's been two months of this, and good days are few and far between, and Dean's tired, but he's not too fucking tired for the fight he's about to ignite).

He knows that if looks could kill, Castiel would be screeching and glowing and leaving torched wings on the floor, but instead the angel is staring at Sam's closed door.

“Where the fuck were you?” Dean starts. “You left us!”

Castiel finally turns his eyes to Dean. “Dean, Heaven is in utter chaos as of late. They needed me.”

“I needed you!” Dean retorts, and he's not really sure why the angel owes them anything, but he just feels like he does.

Cas nods, just a hint of regret in his eyes. “I see this now.” Dean opens his mouth to shoot something back, but Cas cuts him off quickly. “Look, Dean, we can have this discussion later. Tell me about Sam.”

And Dean is just about to fly off again, but he bites his tongue, swallows it down, and talks about his brother with a voice that's shakier than he'd like. And Castiel listens intently, nods, and asks if Sam has said anything.

“N-no. That... That's just it, that's one of the biggest things. It's like he tries but it's all just gibberish.”

Cas's eyes knit together, he tilts his head to the side, as if working out his own theories in his head to solve the mystery of Sam Winchester. Then he gives a sharp nod and makes his way into Sam's room. Dean almost wants to stop him, say that he can't just barge in on Sam, but what other option does he have at this point?

Sam's laying on his side, eyes almost rolling and completely out of focus by this point, letting out long hard whines as he clenches and unclenches his hands. Cas takes a seat on the bed right by Sam's belly and places a tentative hand on the man's head. Sam whines louder at the contact but doesn't focus on the presence.

“Shhh, Sam. You're alright. I'm here to help.”

Sam starts to roll his head from side to side and there it is again, that gibberish, but it's the same word over and over. Dean watches from the doorway, runs his hand down his face, and thinks maybe Castiel can't help them, maybe Sammy is too far gone and this is just their life now. 

And then Dean hears more gibberish, but from in a different voice, not Sam's voice, and he realizes the angel seems to be indulging in this, this... _language_ Sam has going.

And then it fucking hits him like a damn semi-truck as soon as his brain spouts out the word language. Because what other language would Sammy speak in after he's spent _centuries_ locked in a cage with two other angels and their poor fucking brother? Why else would Cas be able to sit there and speak this same language with Sam and act like it's the most normal fucking thing? 

Cas runs his hands through Sam's hair and Dean ignores the ping of jealousy. Castiel says something to Sam that seems to comfort him a little. He's actually trying to focus now, to say something back, but he's exhausted and Dean can see it pulling him under. His whines have lessened to exhausted whimpers and Cas continues to talk to Sam in a low soothing tone. When Sam finally seems to pull under just enough, Cas rises and makes his way to Dean.

“It's Enochian,” he says, confirming Dean's new found realization and he can't help but feel like shit.

“I... I should have realized sooner. I should have called for you sooner. I... _shit_ ,” Dean sighs, pushing his face into his hands.

Castiel puts his hand on his shoulder.

“I should have come sooner.” Is all he says.

Dean hopes he isn't going anywhere for a while.

 

Dean's resting on the cheap sofa, browsing sites about Enochian online while Cas watches the news beside him.

“So,” Dean starts, because he has to know, “What did you say to him in there?”

Cas shrugs. “Just that he's safe here. He has nothing to be afraid of with us. We're here to help him and he needs to rest.”

Dean nods. That's exactly what he's _been_ trying to say. He's so damn frustrated about it.  


“What did he say back?”

“First he was afraid. He could sense my grace and I can assume it wasn't helping matters. But then he just said that he didn't want to go back there, that he wanted to stay here. He asked me to let him stay here...”

Cas looked unfocused for a moment, caught in the memory, before he looked up again. 

“I suspect he has nightmares of that place. He wants to avoid them as much as possible.”

Dean nods again. “Doesn't really explain why he's been yelling his head off for a solid 12 hours.” 

“Hm. I would assume because he was tired and didn't want to sleep. And I can imagine he's probably used to crying out to no end.”

These are things that make sense to Dean, make so much fucking sense, and he's so damn mad he couldn't just put these pieces together before.

But what's done is done and Dean decides not to think about it, not right now. Forward is the only place to go.


End file.
